


take my hand and lead me where you will

by cosmic_llin



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Gentleness, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: Bernie likes to submit.She doesn't think she could do it for anyone but Serena.





	1. Chapter 1

Bernie likes to submit.

She doesn't think she could do it for anyone but Serena, doesn't think she could trust anyone that much. She's put her heart in Serena's hands, and she puts her body in them too, surrendering control in a way that scares her, thrills her, makes her feel whole and safe, not just while it's happening but afterwards too, when Serena wraps herself around her and holds her tight, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheek, her collarbone.

Gentle restraint is about as far as she'll go, at least for the moment - a blindfold is too much, and she's not really into role play, although she senses that Serena might like it. Maybe she'll suggest it as a birthday treat, but for now the way things are is perfect.

What she likes best is the way Serena tells her exactly what she's going to do, her voice husky and teasing, and then does it, precisely how she promised she would. It's like a call and response, two halves of a song. It's like a magic spell, like Serena remakes reality, remakes Bernie, with the certainty of her words.

What she likes the very, very best is when Serena tells her to come. Oh god, does she like it. But that's a way off yet. Right now they're just getting started, and Serena is tying Bernie's wrist to the bedpost with one of her many beautiful scarves. It makes it better, knowing that, on another day, Serena might wear this scarf to work, and now she's using it for this. Bernie watches her as she ties it off.

'Not too tight?' Serena asks.

Bernie shakes her head. 'Just right.'

Serena smiles and moves to the other wrist, leaning over Bernie and stretching in a way that's so transparently calculated to drive her to distraction that Bernie lets out a laugh. This beautiful, manipulative woman.

'Something you want to share with the rest of the class?' Serena asks sternly.

Bernie bites her lips to keep her smile down. 'No, ma'am.'

When Serena's work is done, she sits back a little, and they take a moment to admire each other. Bernie is naked, and the way Serena looks at her, like she's never seen anything more worthy of attention, makes her feel so proud of her body, so ridiculously pleased with herself that she has the power to do this, to make Serena's eyes go wide and her mouth fall open.

Serena herself isn't quite undressed - she's wearing matching black underwear, and although the buttons of her white blouse are all undone and the sleeves are rolled up, she hasn't discarded it yet. That might change later, but for now Bernie doesn't have a say, so she'll just have to wait and see. For now she just drinks in the sight.

'Here's what we're going to do,' says Serena. 'I'm going to kiss you, right from your toes all the way up, and until I reach your mouth, you are not allowed to make a sound. Nod if you agree.'

Bernie nods vigorously. She isn't very good at this game - in fact she's never once managed to make it all the way - but she still likes it, and the fact that there's no penalty for losing doesn't make her any less determined to try her best.

Serena takes one of Bernie's feet in each hand and slides her legs gently a little way apart - not for access but because, if she doesn't, Bernie struggles to resist the urge to rub her thighs together, and that's cheating.

Serena begins to work her way up, slowly, oh so slowly, with light kisses, and Bernie already aches, already wants to moan, but this is still the beginning of the game, and there's no way she's going out this early.

There's soft music playing, something that Bernie can only identify as classical, and Serena moves in time with it, one kiss for every beat. Bernie wonders if she even knows she's doing it. Her mouth moves like honey pouring, slow and sweet, along the top of Bernie's foot, her ankle, her calf, lingering there for a long minute before continuing across Bernie's knee and upward.

Bernie's skin feels hot now, her insides feel taut with anticipation, and although the urge to make a sound - even a gasp counts - is building, she can still focus enough to keep it down, even if she has to clamp her mouth closed.

Serena is kissing the inside of Bernie's thigh now, her breath warm and damp, her lips soft. Her tongue sometimes flickers out, just a gentle caress, and as she moves up, up, up, Bernie is seized by the temptation to give in and just beg Serena to go down on her right now.

But that's not the game, that's not the game, and the way Serena looks up at her and smirks, because she knows, both inflames Bernie and renews her determination. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, strains against the scarves tying her down, and it gives her a little relief, a little reserve of strength that keeps her silent while Serena's mouth travels across her hip bone and then her stomach.

The music swells, and Serena's kisses are suddenly more vigorous, still slow but pressing harder, as she works her way along the curve of the underside of Bernie's breast. Bernie desperately wants Serena to suck her nipple, but she knows she won't because she hasn't said she will, and she's right, she kisses it once, lightly, and passes it by, and Bernie comes within an inch of letting out a squeak of protest.

In the back of her mind, she adds that to her running tally of things she will ask for the next time, when they're not playing the game. It will be even better then because she can't have it now.

Serena's mouth is at the top of Bernie's breast, and she's shaking with the effort of staying silent, every cry she's held down bubbling to escape. But this is the furthest she's ever got - Serena's mouth is at the top of her sternum - and she can't give up now - Serena's mouth is at her clavicle - she's about to explode - Serena's mouth is on her throat - oh god - her jaw - oh  _ god _ \- her cheek - she's pulling against the restraints - and then Serena's mouth meets hers at last,  _ at last _ , and everything she's been pushing down comes out at once in a long, deep groan, into Serena's mouth as they kiss, everything pouring out of her, and then she's panting, gasping with relief as Serena drops kisses all around her mouth, all over her face, and jesus, she hasn't even come yet and she feels incredible, and Serena is holding her face in her hands and praising her, telling her how well she did, how proud she is, and Bernie laughs, helpless with relief, and wonders if she could bottle this feeling.

They kiss for a while after that, and Bernie’s fingers keep twitching, wanting to touch, nowhere near capable of reaching. She lifts her hips off the bed, pushing against Serena, who deftly slides backward and away.

‘So impatient,’ she says fondly. ‘Are you doing ok? No pins and needles or anything? Do you need a break?’

‘Couldn’t be better,’ says Bernie.

‘Excellent,’ says Serena.

Her hands roam over Bernie’s body, and she narrates as she goes, describing every action before doing it. She trails a finger down from Bernie’s wrist to her underarm, and Bernie shivers. She strokes her stomach, her hips, her side. She’s kneeling with one leg either side of Bernie, and then she drops lower, so that the fabric of her briefs slides against Bernie’s cunt.

‘Fuck…’ says Bernie, as all her heat floods to her core.

‘Mmm,’ agrees Serena.

She does a little shimmy, grinning wickedly, and while Bernie’s still processing that, she announces that she’s going to stroke her breasts, and then she does, her fingers making spirals for a while before her thumbs flicker against Bernie’s nipples.

Bernie’s pulse almost drowns out the music now.

‘I’m going to put two fingers inside you,’ Serena says. ‘You can make as much noise as you like.’

‘Sounds marvellous,’ Bernie gasps out.

Serena’s fingers slide inside her easily, she’s so, so wet, and for a moment Serena just holds them there, because she knows that Bernie likes to take a little time to savour this sensation, this feeling that they’re two puzzle pieces fitting together. Then she begins to curl and uncurl her fingers, slow, gentle strokes right against the spot that makes her dizzy, and Bernie whimpers, tugging a little against her restraints. Serena puts her free hand against Bernie’s ribcage, steadying her, and her fingers work faster, go a little deeper, and Bernie wriggles, lets out a moan. Every inch of her is coiled tighter than tight, waiting for release. She can hardly stand it. Her breath comes in gasps, her toes curl, her hips buck with a will of their own, and still Serena’s fingers dance, bringing her closer, closer, closer.

‘Come for me, darling?’ Serena says.

After that two or three more strokes is all it takes before she lets go, her orgasm bursting from her like a river breaking its banks, overflowing so that it floods every inch of her, escaping in her hoarse cries, her clenched fists, her trembling body, until finally she’s coming back to herself, Serena’s fingers still inside her, Serena’s hand still warm against her side, Serena’s voice telling her how beautiful she is, how incredible.

She spends a minute catching her breath, smiles at Serena, who returns it, a delighted beam that warms Bernie all the way through. Serena tucks herself beneath Bernie’s outstretched arm, kisses her side, and wraps an arm around her waist, and for a little while they just lie there together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folks, I planned three chapters but I don't think the third one's going to pan out, so I'm leaving this at two for now, but I might add more sometime if I get inspired to continue!

Serena likes to dominate.

She's always enjoyed being in charge, and with Bernie she can shake off the shadow of self-consciousness that always follows her, the little voice she mostly manages to ignore, the one that tells her she's too demanding, too strident, taking up too much space and time and attention.

Bernie offers up her space and time and attention, and Serena grabs it with both hands, greedy for it, unguilty.

Right now they're still cuddling, Bernie's still tied, and Serena's thinking about what she wants to do next.

She'd like to kneel with her thighs on either side of Bernie's head, and have her tilt her face up to taste her, make her lick and suck until she comes. She'd like to do that, but she doesn't think Bernie's neck will take that angle, and she knows if she mentions it Bernie will want to try anyway. So she just pictures it for a minute, closes her eyes and rolls the idea around in her mind, and she must be smiling because Bernie says 'What's so funny?'

'Nothing you need to worry about,' Serena says, her fingers lazily circling on Bernie's hip.

She has another thought, one that's more doable, and she knows Bernie will get a kick out of it. She gives her a final pat on the leg and slides off the bed, walks around to the head, starts untying one of the scarves from the bedpost.

'Are your wrists sore?' she asks.

'Not at all.'

'In that case I'm going to untie you from the bed and tie your hands together instead.’

She takes her time over it, enjoying herself, pulling Bernie to a sitting position before kissing her knuckles and the space between her thumb and her fingers, then tying her hands in front of her, palms pressed together. Bernie watches her, her eyes sparkling, and Serena feels a sudden wave of deep satisfaction as she ties the final knot and stands back to admire her handiwork - Bernie sitting cross-legged with her bound hands resting on her ankles, looking coyly up at her from behind that messy fringe, waiting with barely concealed impatience to know what Serena will ask of her next. It knocks all of the air out of her, that Bernie trusts her enough to let her do this, that fierce, fearless Bernie Wolfe will give her all this power and love her for taking it. She gulps a long, steadying breath.

'All right?' she asks.

'Perfect,' says Bernie.

'Now,' says Serena, 'undress me.'

Bernie raises her eyebrows. Serena gives her a stern look, or at least she would if she could keep a straight face. Bernie shuffles to the edge of the bed and slides off, approaches Serena. She tilts her head, looking for an angle of attack. She tests her bonds, but Serena knows she tied them well - Bernie won't be using her hands for this.

Bernie moves towards her with sudden confidence. Serena's seen that look before - she has a plan. Then Bernie's nose is nuzzling her collarbone, nudging her shirt loose, baring her shoulder. Her breath is hot on Serena's skin as she moves around to her back, bites down on the collar of the shirt and pulls it smoothly downwards.

'I'm beginning to think I made this too easy,' says Serena, as Bernie's mouth tugs at her sleeve, but she can’t help feeling smug - her Bernie is so skilful, so impressive, and right now all of that dazzling talent is focused on pleasing her.

Within a few moments the shirt is on the floor, and Serena hears a ping behind her before she feels the loosening as Bernie effortlessly unclasps her bra with her teeth.

Her knees go weak. 'How the hell did you do that?' she demands.

'It is what you asked me to do,' points out Bernie, with totally false meekness.

Then she's silent, concentrating on hooking her tongue around one of Serena's bra straps, sliding it off her shoulder. Her lips brush Serena's arm with the movement, and she feels her heart beating faster. Bernie moves to the other strap, taking it between her teeth and dragging it until the whole thing falls off. She stands there for a moment, grins around her prize, then drops it on the floor.

Serena's wearing just the lace briefs now, but even that seems too much, too warm and too confining. Bernie's looking at her with wide, dark eyes, that look that's almost worshipful, that makes Serena feel like she can do anything.

'Please... may I kiss you?' Bernie asks softly.

Usually she can hold out, she's happy to let Serena call the shots. If she's asking then she must really, really want to, so much that she can't help herself. Serena melts at the knowledge. For a second she contemplates refusing, but that would be punishing herself too and she's not in the mood for that right now.

'All right,' she says, and Bernie leans in, almost falls against her.

They kiss soft and slow and deep, their bodies warm and slick with sweat, pressing together. She holds Bernie, wraps arms around her like Bernie can't do in return. Bernie's bound hands nudge against lace and cotton, forced between Serena's legs by their closeness, and Serena sighs, grinding against them for a few moments, tangling a hand in Bernie's hair. Her clit aches sweetly, and she presses harder, and that's when they stumble, and she rights them, hands firm on Bernie's hips until she knows she's steady again.

‘Time to finish what you started,’ she tells her.

Bernie takes her meaning right away, lets Serena help her down to her knees, where she can just about reach to grab the fabric with her teeth and pull. She slides the briefs down as far as Serena’s calves, and then they fall the rest of the way and she steps out of them, leaning down. She catches Bernie’s hands in hers and lifts them up, kisses what she can reach of her wrists, then up her arms to her elbows.

‘Serena…’ says Bernie, under her breath, like a prayer.

'Come with me,' Serena says, and draws Bernie, still kneeling, forward.

Bernie shuffles until her knees touch the bed, her chin level with the top of the mattress, just the right height. Serena climbs onto the bed, slides to the very foot, sits with her legs spread either side of Bernie and her feet on the floor. She leans down to kiss the top of her head, strokes her hair.

'I want you to give me an orgasm using just your mouth,' she says.

Bernie grins. 'I'd love to,' she says, and god, Serena still can't get over it, how excited Bernie always is to make her come. It makes her face flush.

She reaches behind her and grabs the pillows, so that she can lean back but still be propped up enough to have a view of Bernie. Bernie, who nudges her legs further open with her head, then sucks so hard on the skin of her inner thigh that she moans, knowing it will leave a secret mark that will make her blush at work tomorrow when she remembers it's there.

Bernie buries her nose in Serena's pubic hair, inhales deeply, makes a satisfied sound. Then she draws her tongue once, lazily, across Serena's clit.

'Ohhhh,' says Serena.

Bernie's mouth moves slowly, gently. Her tongue explores Serena with a thoroughness that makes her toes curl, before she takes hold of the left side of Serena's inner labia - her nympha, Serena saw it called once in an old textbook, such a pretty word - and sucks it into her mouth. Serena closes her eyes for a moment, lets out a groan.

Now she's on the move again, sucking, kissing, teasing with a flickering, restless tongue. Serena lets out a little whimper with each touch - she's no good at keeping quiet, she wouldn't last five seconds at the game she makes Bernie play for her.

If Bernie weren't tied up, now is around the time she'd wrap one arm around each of Serena's legs, steadying her, pulling her close.

She can't do that now, but she makes up for it by pushing her face harder against Serena's cunt, and Serena can't help but respond by spreading wider, hitching forward a little.

 _Fuck_ , it feels magnificent.

Bernie's determined tongue finds her clit again, circles it a few times, and then she switches back to sucking, long and slow motions that send electricity racing up Serena's spine.

'Oh god, oh Bernie...' she gasps, and then she runs out of words, only sounds left.

And now Bernie's licking her clit in strong, steady strokes, getting faster little by little, and Serena is writhing against the pillows, her legs shaking, and she can't look down at Bernie any more, can't look at anything, her eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth is open, panting, and Bernie goes faster and harder, faster and harder, and she can feel her orgasm gathering, building, closer, closer, until it shatters her, a thousand pieces of her scattering with a long, deep groan, and when it subsides she comes back to herself feeling brand new, soft and clean.

Bernie's head drops against Serena’s thigh, and she smiles up at her. Serena reaches out a trembling hand to stroke her hair.

‘That was perfect,’ she says, licking her lips, her mouth dry. ‘Come up here?’

Bernie climbs onto the bed, and when they kiss her mouth is slow and tired, worn out from her hard work. Serena lies her down, unties her, and snuggles close to spoon her, tucking their knees close, draping an arm around her waist, kissing her shoulder blade. Bernie takes hold of Serena’s hand on her stomach, pulls it up to her mouth to kiss it. And that’s how they stay, at least for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I said I wasn't going to add this chapter but now I have, just a little coda really!

'Are you feeling all right?' Serena asks, when they've had a few minutes to come down. 'Was that all ok for you? Are you hurt anywhere?'

'Yes, yes and no,' Bernie says, turning over to smile at her.

Bernie isn't particularly bothered - they never do anything too rough, and if Serena didn't insist on untying her, checking she isn't bruised, massaging feeling back into anything that’s started to go numb, making sure she’s comfortable with everything that happened, then Bernie would happily fall asleep tangled in Serena and her scarves, and not worry about the rest at least until morning. 

Mostly once she's sufficiently reassured Serena strokes her hair until she's dozing, and they cuddle up together, sticky and sated, and she sleeps a deep, satisfying sleep.

This time though, Serena sighs.

'What is it?' Bernie asks.

'We're both starting early tomorrow. We won't want to shower in the morning. It's always so bloody cold in that bathroom first thing and we'll want the extra few minutes of sleep.'

Bernie buries her face in the pillow.

'You know I'm right,' says Serena, and she pats Bernie's bare thigh and slides off the bed, pads away.

Bernie hears her go into the bathroom, turn the water on to warm up, clatter around. She turns over, watches Serena poke her head back in through the doorway.

'Well?' she asks. 'Are you coming?'

Oh.  _ That _ kind of shower.

Bernie rolls to standing, still pleasantly wobbly from earlier, and follows Serena in. The bathroom is already full of steam, the air warm on her skin. Serena takes her hand, kisses it, and then leads her into the shower.

Hot water cascades over her shoulders, and she sighs. Serena moves closer, wraps her arms around Bernie’s waist, and for a few moments they stand under the spray together, Serena pressing slow kisses along Bernie’s shoulder. Bernie could almost fall asleep like this, her eyes are almost closing already, but Serena’s body pressing against hers, her gentle fingers stroking the base of Bernie’s spine, make a convincing argument for staying awake just a little bit longer.

Then Serena plants her hands on Bernie’s waist and turns her a half circle so that Serena is behind her. She opens the shampoo bottle - all of Serena’s shower things smell so nice - and runs her hands through Bernie’s hair. Bernie’s breathing slows as Serena massages her scalp, fingers spreading and circling. After a while, she starts to rinse, adjusting the shower head so that the spray falls, warm and insistent, on Bernie’s hair, cupping her hands to trickle water to catch the bits she’s missed, stroking the wet hair away from Bernie’s eyes. She applies conditioner, rinses again, her hands deft and unhurried.

Bernie leans into it, still not opening her eyes, and she thinks that this is almost the calmest, the quietest, she has ever felt. Nothing and nobody but Serena can touch her here.

As if she knows what Bernie’s thinking, Serena kisses the back of Bernie’s neck and reaches one soapy hand to cup one of her breasts, her thumb sliding slick over Bernie’s nipple. Bernie moans low in her throat, and when Serena’s hand tightens it turns into a growl.

‘God, I love the noises you make,’ Serena tells her, her voice husky.

The sound of the splashing changes subtly, and Bernie half-opens her eyes to see Serena rinsing the soap from her other hand under the spray. She wraps her arm around Bernie and traces the line of her hip bone, then walks her fingers - Bernie shivers - downward to slide between her legs. She pulls Bernie closer, so that she’s pressed along the length of her back, and maneuvers them both so that the pattering water doesn’t land in their faces.

Bernie relaxes into Serena’s arms, savouring the close hold, the firm pressure of Serena’s hands on her skin, her breasts against Bernie’s back. Serena slides inside Bernie, not far, just her fingertips, dancing against the anterior wall of her cunt, and Bernie presses into it, feels suddenly like the whole of her is balanced in Serena’s curled palm.

It barely takes any time at all, just a few moments of slow, firm stroking, and Bernie brims over with a soft cry, leans against the cool wall of the shower to stay steady. Serena kisses her spine, her shoulder blade, and then turns her around again for another few minutes of languid kisses underneath the warm shower before they turn their attention to actually getting clean.

When they’re finished, Serena wraps Bernie in soft towels, warm from the heated rail, then heads out into the bedroom so that they each have a little more space to get dry. Bernie takes her time, and when she emerges Serena has put fresh sheets on the bed.

The covers are cool as she slides under them, and Serena’s body, curving close to hers, is warm. Serena puts her chin on Bernie’s shoulder, drapes an arm over her to stroke her thigh.

‘Sweet dreams,’ she says.

Bernie mumbles something back, or perhaps she just thinks about it. She’s already falling asleep.


End file.
